


turn your spears into kindling

by flashandsubstance



Category: Lord of the Flies - William Golding
Genre: (those last two are never outright stated just heavily implied), Angst, Communication, Depression, Gen, Mental Health Issues, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Underage Smoking, they're dumb i love them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-11-13 06:46:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18026780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flashandsubstance/pseuds/flashandsubstance
Summary: Jack would never think that he and Ralph would ever actually... talk.





	turn your spears into kindling

**Author's Note:**

> while writing this i was listening to ghosting by mother mother, which is v thematically accurate for this fic.
> 
> this is TECHNICALLY an assignment for school. technically. i absolutely didn’t wanna write this even before it was assigned. shhhhhh
> 
> this stems from my many, many headcanons that i have about jack merridew, trash fave. (this isn’t 100% in line with what i think happens to jack specifically, but this was for class so i had to tonw it down a bunch. idk if i’ll write that end.)
> 
> assume that somehow ralph and jack ended up at school together. suspend your disbelief. they’re 15 in this, i’m thinking sophmores in american.

“Rodger got arrested again.” Said Jack, as a way of greeting. This got a laugh from Ralph.

“What a surprise!” A pause. “What for?”

“Battery, I think-” Jack stopped. He didn’t like to think about Rodger. Even if Rodger’d been the one to kill Piggy, Jack knew that in the broad scale of things, it was his fault. He’d pushed everyone to far. That brutality, that letting loose, he’d been the one to star it. All the boys had though him a god, a deity who’d feed them and guide them and protect them from the beast. But the one thing that none of them had ever figured out, (not that Jack would ever admit it) was that he was scared too.

He’d never stopped being scared, but now that terror was no longer about how to survive another day. Jack was scared of himself.

Ralph coughed, breaking the silence. “You okay?”

“Fine, how’re you?” mumbled Jack. Ralph ran a hand through his no longer sun-bleached hair, which was darker and sandier than it ever had been on the island, Jack noticed. It was shorter too, floppy on top but clean-cut and neat on the sides. It suited Ralph, and gave him a friendly look.

“Fine too.” Another pause. “That’s all anyone seems to say when you ask ‘em outright.”

“I know you still talk to Sam’n’Eric, how’re they?” Jack’d never looked for any way to contact them. He’d no idea what he’d even say to them. They prolly didn’t want to hear from him anyways.

“I still write them from time to time. They live up in Kirkaldy now, with family.”

“D’you know what happened to any of the others? ”

“When it comes to your choir boys-”

Jack cut him off. “They’re not my choir boys,” he mumbled. Ralph continued.

“-You prolly know better than me. Most of the littleuns were young enough that they’re already forgetting it, their problems were mostly physical- malnutrition and the like. The rest are pretty messed up, from what I heard. I didn’t really stay in contact with anyone besides Sam’n’Eric.” Jack took a drag of his cigarette.

“Most of the choir boys got pulled outta the school. Kinda ironic,” said Jack.

“How?”

“They left. You came,” mumbled Jack, scuffing his trainer in the dirt.

“Why not you?” Said Ralph inquisitively.

Jack gave him a bewildered look. “Huh?”

“Why didn’t you leave,” said Ralph with genuine curiousity. It was a harmless question, if you didn’t know the answer.

“...I didn’t have anywhere else to go. No family, y’know?” Jack looked away, face flushing with embarrassment. Ralph’s look turned sympathetic, the corners of his eyes going soft as he gently frowned. Jack hated that look- it was the one that most teachers, and other well-meaning adults gave him when they found out.

“Was it the war, or-” Jack cut him off sharply.

“No. I never knew who my parents were.” The only reason that Jack had even made it into such a prestigious boarding school was because of his good grades, and his talent in singing. He was one of the only kids that stayed in the dorms over the summer. So he’d compensated. He’d toughened up, made himself top dog so that no one would try’n knock him about.

“Oh,” murmured Ralph. They fell silent, both avoiding the other’s gaze.

Jack went to take a drag of his cigarette, and realized that it had burned down to the stub. He dropped the orange nib in the sparse grass by his feet, and ground it onto the dirt with his heel. He could feel Ralph’s eyes on him as he rifled through his pockets for one of the packets of cigarettes that he’d bum off Luke, an upperclassmen who could care less that Jack was only fifteen, for cheap.

Pulling the box and a lighter out of his pocket, he stuck a fresh cigarette between his lips, and offered the box to Ralph.

“Want one?”

“Nah,” said Raplh, “I don’t smoke.” Jack shrugged.

“Suit yourself.” Jack clicked the lighter, and the flame popped. He cupped a hand around the tiny light, protecting it from the wind as he lit his cigarette. It lit, and Jack put the lighter back in his pocket, leaning back heavily against the wall as he took a long, self-satisfied drag of the cigarette, exhaling its acrid smoke into the cold air. Out of the corner of his eye, Jack could see Ralph scrunch up his nose like a child offered asparagus. The thought made Jack snort with barely-contained laughter.

Ralph shot Jack a dark look, and once more, Jack fell silent. Something in the glare made him think. Why was Ralph even talking to him right now? Shouldn’t Ralph…

“D’you hate me?”

“What?”

“I said,” snapped Jack, already regretting his words, “D’you hate me?”

Ralph laughed, low and bitter. “Y’know, I used to hate you, more’n I’ve hated anyone ever. Now I just pity you.” Jack wanted to argue, but after a moment, and another drag of his cigarette, his anger faded, and all was left was his need to understand.

“Why?”

“See,” murmured Ralph, eyes lowered, “I have to live with what you’n the others did to me, Simon, n’ Piggy. You have to live with the fact that you did it.” Jack flinched. He knew that Ralph was right. Not a day went by without Jack reliving the events of the island. He just didn’t want to admit it. After another awkward silence, Jack spoke again.

“I was always top of my class,” Jack said. “Top marks, teacher’s pet. Now, no one seems to understand why I’m barely passing. I almost never sleep, and I can’t eat pig without feeling like I’m back there- I’ll nearly vomit.” Ralph had a sympathetic look on his face.  
“It’s the same for me.  Used to be that everyone was friends with me. I just draw away from everyone now. Everyone thinks ‘m weird besides, what with how easily I spook. And if they don’t find my jumpiness weird, they think it’s goddamn hilarious, and try to scare me all the time. Once, I nearly took one kid’s eye out with a pencil. He thought it was the funniest thing in the world, not thinking about what woulda happened if I’d hit my target.” Jack felt a small smile creep onto his face, and Ralph gave him a confused look.

“Why’re you smiling like that?”

“Nothing, it’s just that-” Jack laughed and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “If you saw us, back on the island, we’d’ve never imagined any sort of thing like this. Actually talking, y’know? Besides, I genuinely relate to you more than the others.” That got a grin from Ralph, and for a moment, Jack felt that maybe, everything would be alright for them.

“It’s funny. Now that we don’t hate each other, we’re practically friends-” Jack winced. 

After an awkward pause, Jack spoke again. “Are we? Friends I mean?” Ralph looked down at his feet, hunching in on himself, a confusing mix of emotions clear on his face.

“I should head back to class,” Ralph mumbled. Jack sighed as he watched Ralph speed walk away across the foggy courtyard. Slumping back against the wall, Jack closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the cool brick wall. He’d stay until he finished his cigarette, then he’d follow Ralph’s example and go back to class. Or not. Who knew how he’d feel once he was done.

God, Jack was so tired.

 

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on tumblr! i’m @flash-and-substance


End file.
